RACHEL (re-written)
by werewolf-glader
Summary: When Rachel lost her family, W.I.C.K.E.D. took her under their wing and now she is helping them to find a cure for the Flare. But what happens with her when she loses another friend, her memory? Will she be able to keep her sanity? [Okay by now you all figured out I suck at summaries. Rated T because I have no idea how this rating thing works yet.]
1. Chapter 1

FULL NAME CLASSIFIED. Subject B2 is serious minded and responsible. After eperiencing total memory loss, subject seeks security in isolation from other subjects. However, she gained the support of those around her because of her kind, understanding and responsible nature. Succesful in any position inside the glade, easily adaptable. Only weakness the subject shows so far is lack of self – confidence.  
Subject B2 has formed closed friendship with subjects B1 and B5.

With strong knock on a door of their room, one oft he WICKED's guards enters in. He didn't wait for any sign of approval, the man simply rushed in like he does every other morning. Teresa groans and pulls a big pillow over her head. Rechel, on the other hand, gave up from protesting years ago. What was the point anyway? They would wake up every day at the same time, eat breakfast and do what they are told. They are here only subjects, no matter how much they sugarcoat it. When she arrived, the Creators told her they're supposed to save humanity, but she never felt like a hero. She felt more like a creature in cage, a soul tourtured in hell. She was a lab rat, a disposable body to be used in an experiment. _Everything we do here is for the greater good, _they said, _no matter the casualties we're supposed to do everything in our power to find a cure._

Rachel nods at the old man to tell him his job is done for now and he closes the door behind him. Unlike other guards, this one was kind; his age makes him smarter and more tolerant. In his old eyes one can see true life, a life full of memories, loss and pain.

She jumps out of her bed to quickly tide it up. Folded clothes already waited for her on a wooden table, which wasn't very unusual. But instead of her usual white W.I.C.K.E.D. uniform, they sent the black one. There must have been a mistake, she thought. Confusion filled her head. "Teresa," she calls for the girl, who groaned one more time in a response. That girl just isn't a morning person. Rachel walked over to Teresa's bed on the other side of a room. There was a lot of empty space between them; this room is actually too big for the two of them. Rachel always felt like in prison: the whole room is white with just two beds and one table. Even the windows are sealed, and the bars on them are just a constant reminder that there's no way out. She pulls Teresa's pillow out of her grip. "Leave me alone," girl says through her teeth. Realizing she's too stubborn to deal with, Rachel decided to put on what was prepared for her for today and deal with it.

"Morning, Miss Rachel." The old guard gives her a warm smile. After she nodded, her eyes glanced to a wall clock. It's only four in the morning. "Why did you wake me up so early?!" She could have been safe and sound in her dreams for two more hours at least. "I've been told to wake you up at this time, Assistant Director Janson's orders." Automatically, at the mention of his name, Rachel got a headache. "Do you know where I can find him?" she asks, skeptical.  
"Probably in the lab," he answered. His smile was attempt to make her braver, but it didn't.  
Just as she turned around to leave, a thought occurred to her. "Bob, what's the date today?"  
Man looks at his pocked calendar and says "April 7th," he pauses to look at her "On this date, you've been here for three years."

1095 days, to be exact. 1095 days since she lost everything. That's how she finds strength and courage, telling herself _you can do it_ every morning. But bravery is slowly drifting away, fading into fear.

The first day she arrived, a man in black uniform stood beside her and pointed on a tall building with his long uneven fingers. "This, girl, is your new home." To Rachel, an eleven year old girl it looked like a place from horror movies. With no parents and no friends she was just a lonely scared girl. There was only a stranger leading her into a haunted house. To eleven year old girl it was the end of a life. As soon as her small foot stepped on a white, tile covered floor – the same one she is currently walking on – a group of kids rushed by her. Rachel's heart stopped pounding so fast, because then she realized she was not alone in this, and it felt mitigating. Scary, yes, but also survivable.

She pushed away the memories when sliding doors opened. The lab is silent, except sound of breaths that echoed through pure, spotless white walls. This room always gave her creeps. Her worst nightmares revolve around people in white digging into her brain, controlling her. 

Three scientists and a man observed something on a big screen. And from the look on their faces, she knew something was off. Rachel recognized enormous grey walls of the maze, even though they were smaller on a screen, she still knew their purpose and it frightened her. A fourth person in the room, a grey haired man with a mole on his rat-like face turned to face a nervous girl. "Hello, Rachel. Come, join us." He says, and she obeys.  
She wondered if they could see her emotions as well as her mood on one of their screens that monitors her brain. 

Rachel glances up at a screen, and now when she got a closer look at what is actually going on, she wished she never entered the lab at all.

A large group of boys gathered on a graveyard… on a poor version of graveyard they call The Deadheads, it's located in a small forest area in the Glade, and the number of graves only grows. For a moment, Rachel is not sure what she is supposed to be looking at. Her eyes travel to the corner of a screen: GROUP A. Just when she thought she's not supposed to be here, that this is Teresa's job, sliding doors opened again. But it wasn't Teresa, they called for Thomas.  
"They're dying like flies." One of the scientists commented, a blond haired woman with glasses almost falling from her nose. She was afraid to ask who. Who died?  
Sickness filled her body, everything inside her turned into pain. Thomas asks instead, "What happened?"  
This wasn't what I signed for, she thoughts. We were told we just have to find cure, they did warn us about casualties, but they never say that this many innocent people will die. "Who was it?" She finally demanded an answer, but the words were barely recognizable. Director Janson moved his eyes from the screen to look at them. It didn't take long for Thomas to get the message. His hand gripped Rachel's shoulder, "Maybe you should go outside," he wishpared.  
"I asked who!?" This time her voice was strict and flat. The woman with glasses changed the camera. Now next to monitoring system, a familiar face showed up.

Subject A10. Stephen.

Suddenly, Rachel is eleven years old again and she's sitting on a canteen table alone. All other children, some of her age, other older, and some of them were younger sat in groups. They were mostly groups of six or seven subjects, and they were all laughing. She wandered how they could be so happy, after everything they have lost. An unfamiliar person sat in front of her, "If a duck had lips could it whistle?" Rachel glanced up at him, confused.  
"I have lips, and still don't know how to whistle." She answered nervously.  
"You're new." Boy with ginger hair stated. Rachel didn't answer; instead she just stared at his bony, almost dry face. "I'm Stephen," he held out his hand, and Rachel shook it quickly.  
"Rachel." she added. 

It took her longer to get back to reality, to escape the painful memories. They used to provide shelter and protection in her mind, but now they burn and freeze at the same time. Without a name written next to the picture, she wouldn't even recognize him.

A crazy laugh escaped her mouth. They cannot be serious. It's a lie, she thought.

_My friend is dead._


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own The Maze Runner or any characters. **

**A/N: Please review (please, please, please) and sorry for my bad english. **

WAS THERE ONE YOU SAW TOO CLEARLY?

DID THEY SEEM TOO REAL TO YOU?

THEY WERE KIDS THAT I ONCE KNEW.

THEY WERE KIDS THAT I ONCE KNEW.

(dead hearts, stars)

Stephen was the first person who offered her a hand, first person who offered his friendship and since that day they were inseparable… until, of course, it was his time to be sent to the Glade. Something flamed inside Rachel's stomach, anger strong like a fire. And it burned strong wit desire to demolish everything that comes close to her. There was no need to hide feelings from the scientinst inside the room because in this moment she is not their subject anymore. Rachel is a girl who lost someone, so tears started to drop from her eyes without warning, without sob.

This was different from losing her family. Losing her friend was almost like losing a limb.

_''I promise. Really, what's the worst thing that can happen to me inside the maze?'' Stephen's words echoed in her skull like the rhythm of a drumm. ''Let me see, you can get stung by a griever and not come back in time for a serum… you can get suck inside the maze… don't let me start about memory loss and what it might couse to your brain…'' List goes on and on, one possibility lined up after the other, each of them worse than a previous one. Stephen laughed nervously, drops of sweat leaked down from his forehead. ''Aren't you a cheery one,'' boy muttered, trying to camouflage his fear with a smile. But Rachel could see beneath that thick skin of his, she could see his bones shaking. ''Please promise me you'll come back.'' Stephen gave her a thight hug. ''That's is a promise then.'' he repeated._

On of the scientist, a short man with brown, greasy hair offered her a bottle of water which she refused by giving him a look of a serial killer. Rachel read about them, they were mostly researches from the old days, when there was no sickness and murders were frequent. Rachel wished she was soulled killer now, but she wasn't.. Director Janson observed the situation soundlessly from a safe distance, in a corner of a room. Maybe Rachel wasn't bloodthirsty murderer, but the girl has a history of agressive temperament, so she doesn't really blame him. ''Send hi min,'' Rachel's voice is quiet, almost a whispare, it sounded more like a pleading. ''Send us both in.''  
She didn't want to look at Thomas yet, because then she wouldn't be able to stop crying, and she would collapse on the floor. He had that kind of effect on people, he was a person who'll listen when you need a shoulder to cry on. He was like an older brother.

Woman next to her, the one with glasses, started to counteract Rachel, saying that they cannot do that yet, ''They are not ready… You aren't ready yet'' They. She meant the Gladers, and Rachel was pretty damn sure they are ready to get over with this mess. As for Rachel herself, the woman is right, she isn't and she will never be ready. But something inside of her head was telling her this needs to be finished. And it isn't just Stephen. It was everything. Rachel wanted to have her memory wiped out, because now they were to painful to deal with. ''Thomas will agree with me on this," she says in determined voice, glancing over at the taller boy next to her. If he approves, they'll have no other option than sent them in. ''But.." Thomas opened his mouth to say something. She knew him well enough, as much as she knew that look on his face. He's not up for this, and he will not support her.

''No, Rachel yelled, ''Too many of them died. Group A reduced by half… We cannot lose more!'' If boys continue dying like this, not many of them will be left to find a cure – and the maze is only beginning. Group B isn't doing much better, but they are doing it faster and better. Some of subjects aren't capable of surviving long enough int he Glade, some are too incompetent and others, few of them, are slowly breaking down. Rachel asked herself how will she bear that burden when it comes her time. She wanted to be one of those who will stand and fight, but right now, she doubts herself. ''But it's too risky,'' greasy man said peacefully. ''They are right…'' Thomas sighed.

Rachel glanced over at Janson, who still didn't bother to intervene. Right now, he might be her only chance, no matter how much he's creeping her out. ''Aren't we here for the same couse?!" She questioned again, but no one answered. A rotten laugh felt like a cut on her throat.

Before twisted, shaded thoughts turned into real action, her short legs started to move. Fistly it was just a walk, and she barely moved, but it turned into a jog, and eventually it became a flight. _Am I fleeing from the people in white, that only pretend to care about us, or am I running away from my thoughts?_ Maybe it wasn't important, only thing she was sure about int hat moment was that she felt betrayed. _Betrayed by her best friend. Betrayed by Thomas, a person she could trust. Betrayed by the world._

WICKED headquarters is a big building, with long hallways and it seemed almost like a labyrinth, endless turns and passages lined one after another. Doctors, guards, workers, no one was able to stop her. Ones who tried only got pushed away. Person would thing that after spending so much time inside one building, one would learn by heart its layout. Rachel only knew her tour, room – lab – canteen. Every day is the same. On her third drift left and two drifts right, she finally stopped running and breathed in large amount of air. It didn't feel like a relief at all, because while running she wasn't breathing at all, and now it's painful to let the air in. _I'm a crappy runner,_ she thought. In this part of a building air is stale and dry, this is where guards keep their weapons. There was no final destination of her route, but this seems like a good place to stop. No one is spending their free time here, even the guards are avoiding this room. She used to pass by a group of people wearing black who argued which one of them should go get the guns today – every week the same story. It isn't a lovely place to be: grey, bricked walls with exposed pipes are giving her chills – and poor lightning only makes it look even more hounted.

Hours passed and it only got darker inside the hallway, Rachels thoughts didn't get any lighter either. This loneliness only made her feel worse; it creept under her freckled skin like a disease. It corrupted her mind like a Flare. _What did we do to deserve this? _All this terror, pain and loss – _we did this to ourselves._ Flare was manmade – and it's just turning us into what we really are: animals driven to kill anything that moves – _monsters, that is what we are._

Quiet steps echoed through empty space. A dark silhouette approached carefully. For a moment Rachel was afraid that guards found he, but relief filled her after realizing it was only Thomas. He was much nearer now. The relief was now replaced by something she never felt toward him, disappointment. Under the low light he looked tired. He asked no questions, tall boy leaned against a wall and sat down beside her. Rachel wished she could push him away, let him know how betrayed and frustrated she feels… but she couldn't help but be glade he found her. ''Who are we kidding, Thommo? We'll never succed."  
Thomas bent his head on a side to look at her, ''You're the one who was so sure about everything. Rach, don't give up just yet." But that was then, when Rachel still had a desire to do right, to be good and meaningful person, to be, as stupid as it sounds, a hero. And during the course of each day her heart seemed heavier and her goal further… today, it seemed like her heart isn't pounding anymore.

„Tell me the truth, right here, no one's here to listen…" Rachel sighed before asking, „How sure are you exactly in what we do?"

Thomas hit with his head on the wall and pulled pieces of hair with his fingers – something else he never did in fronto f her before. He was a leader in this group, a strong one, a child who had to grow up too fast. Thomas gave Rachel hope whenever she doupted herself; he helped her stand up when Stephen wasn't there to do that. Never before she realized that Thomas, Teresa and Aris had their own demons to fight. How many times was Teresa crying at night and pretended everything is okay in the morning.

_''It's okay." Teresa's sobbs woke her up. Teresa sounded like a cat with broken leg when she cried – but she rarely did that. ''It's going to be okay," Rachel repeated. She hates watching other people cry, it always makes her cry too. Eventually,on nights like this, Teresa would fall asleep after few minutes. There was only one night when saying 'it's okay' wasn't good enough – when Rachel had to climp up on Teresa's bed and hug her and listen to her story. _

''Is all oft his really worth it?"

''Maybe it is, maybe it's not. But at least we have to try." Thomas finally spoke. '' I don't want to see this world go to hell if I had a chance to save it.''

''He said the same thing, you know,'' Memory of her best friend haunted her mind again. Thomas was never really close to him, but he cared enough for Rachel to know how much Stephen meant to her. ''He wanted to diea as part of something, better that than as a cannibalistic moster – he said." Thomas laughed on that, Rachel couldn't help but laugh too.

''Aris thinks group B is ready.'' he finally said after long period of silence.

''What about you?''

''It's your group, Rach, your job. I believe you know the best.''

Something inside her broke. ''Time to kick some griever but," Rachel joked, even if it wasn't time for jokes. But that is a thing she learned from Stephen, always camouflage your fear wih a laugh. Don't let them see you're hurtin'. As she could recognize it on him, Thomas could on her too. She wondered if he could smell it on her, because air suddenly became corrupted, heavier and thicker.

That was it then, ''Are you scared?" Teresa sked.

Rachel wasn't afraid to admit it, ''Terrified.''

Boy with olive skin and dark hair squeezed Rachel's hand. ''See ya in there,'' He nodded upwards. ''Sure, Aris.''

There was no need to say goodbye to Thomas, since they said their goodbye yesterday, instead he gave her encouraging smile. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make her feel better.

Slowly, but not slow enough, faces dissapeared. Firstly, she couldn't remember the names. After that, feelings faded away too. Now only faceless human beings haunted her inside the darkness until nothing was left.


End file.
